


Companion Piece

by feldman



Category: Farscape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feldman/pseuds/feldman





	Companion Piece

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katya (Veritykindle)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Katya+%28Veritykindle%29).
  * Inspired by [That Thin Line Between Love and Obsession](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3169) by Katya. 



She has waited for him in cabinets, duffle bags, under pillows and bodies; he will find her and free her from this net. But it is stifling and humid and she hates it here. She realizes she's spoiled, so she tries to salvage her professionalism.

It's not like she's never been handled by anyone else before. Countless others have gripped and squeezed her, even fired her. _So help me, if the old woman tries to fire me I'll jam my own pulse chamber._

The woman shuffles over the stony path and the netted bag sways under her skirt, bangs against her knobby knee.

It all changed when he arrived and cradled her in the dry heat of his hand. Just by holding her, he warmed the chakkan oil inside her right through the molded grip. When he finally squeezed (that first time and nearly every time after), he brought her off in a shocking ejaculation of energy.

They are glorious together.

The chakkan oil sloshes inside and the net leaves her exposed to all the salt and dust of this wretched place. She'll need a really good cleaning to forget this dank smell. She aches for the rhythm of riding snug against his thigh, cool air on her grip and heat everywhere else.

Her helplessness makes her angry, and the sloshing is making her ill. She buries herself in memories of him...the sweat of his palm when he is excited, the way his fingers dance as he adjusts his trigger finger, the nervous slide of his thumb over her de-cocking lever (and over, and over again). The way he tastes her cartridge and then slips it home with a click, wet and hot from his tongue.

 _Can you hear me, thinking of you? Find me! Find me and we'll blow this joint wide open._


End file.
